No Stoned Unturned
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: How to Make Friends and Influence Monsters missing scene: A drugged Dean is a source of amusement...and an opportunity.


**No Stoned Unturned**  
K Hanna Korossy

"Okay, so you're sure nothing feels wrong? No nausea, dizziness...homicidal urges?"

Dean's lazy smile remained unfazed. "Nope. Kinda sleepy, but you've been talkin', so..."

He ignored the jab, pressing two fingers under his brother's jaw to check heart rate and temp. The beat was slow but not sluggish, temp normal, eyes just a little glazed. So, basically, stoned.

"'M I gonna live, Dr. Winchester?" Dean asked cheerfully.

Sam gave him one more critical once-over. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so, once the..." He looked back at the table and the Turducken Slammer that was still leaking gray goo. "...gunk works its way out of your system."

"Yeah, well, no rush," Dean said, as dreamy as if he were talking about a stacked brunette in stilettos. "I feel greeeat."

"Huh. Yeah," Sam said, stuck between a laugh and a grimace. "I bet you do."

"How is he?" Bobby asked as he came in and shut the door behind him. "Still Cheech &amp; Chong-ing it?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's giggle behind him. "You get the sample mailed?"

Bobby was staring at the sandwich with considerable distaste. "Buddy o'mine should get back to us in about a week. Wanna bet the results are gonna be nothing anyone's ever seen before?"

"No bet," Sam said, breathing out. Sending off a sample of the slime to Bobby's chemist friend was a good step, but it wouldn't do anything for them right now. "Stake out Biggerson's?" he asked.

"Ooh, Biggerson's!" Dean crowed. "I want another sandwich!"

"No!" Sam and Bobby growled in chorus, glaring at Dean.

Who looked like they'd stolen his favorite toy. Lip curled, Dean muttered something about starving and mean families and...rabbits?

Bobby shook his head and looked again at Sam. "That's what I was thinking. Only trail we've got right now."

Sam nodded and opened his mouth to ask something.

A thump between his shoulder blades almost knocked him forward. He caught himself, then Dean, as Sam turned to find his brother slumping against him.

"'M tired," Dean mumbled.

Hands propping up his brother's shoulders, Sam cast a questioning look at Bobby.

Bobby shrugged back. "Might be the best thing for him."

Sam sighed, rearranging them so Dean was tilted into his side, Sam's arm around his shoulder. "Great. Guess he'll have to sleep it off in the van." Off Bobby's raised eyebrow, he said, "I'm not leaving him here with that...stuff in him." Sam nodded at the sandwich, and Dean nearly slid off his chest at the movement before Sam caught him.

"Point," Bobby conceded. He eyed Dean, who was already snoring against Sam's neck, and his face softened. "Haven't seen him this relaxed too often. He ever do drugs when you were kids?"

"Dean wasn't a kid when we were kids," Sam said wryly. "Getting high would've meant he couldn't obey Dad or look after me."

"So no then."

"Not that I ever saw." He looked down, noting with fond exasperation that there was already a spot of drool on his collar.

"Might not be so bad, him getting his boxers unbunched for a bit. He's been wound pretty tight." Bobby said it casually as he wrapped up the sandwich, but Sam knew the words were carefully chosen.

"You mean his whole recent 'let the world die' attitude?" Sam gave a grim smile, hand tightening around Dean's shoulder as if he could shelter his brother there forever. "I think it's gonna take more than some chemical vacation to turn that around."

Bobby's expression echoed the sadness Sam knew was in his own. "First time I've heard him mention losin' the angel," he conceded.

"And his car, and your place, two closest things he had to a home." Besides Lisa and Ben, a still-fresh loss. And Sam himself, who'd always tried to be the safe harbor for his brother like Dean had been for him.

Lucifer made his presence known by shoving an arm through Sam's chest. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on Dean until it faded.

Yeah, that refuge for Dean had been pretty shaky lately, too, along with Sam's sanity. It had only been a couple of months since he'd nearly shot Dean, thinking he was Lucifer. No wonder Dean was struggling.

Bobby sighed, stuffing weapons into a duffel to take with them. "Those Big Mouths sure aren't helping any, either."

"No." Sam smiled a little when Dean murmured an echoing _no _in his sleep.

Duffel slung over his shoulder, Bobby stopped in front of them. "You want a hand getting Sleeping Beauty to the car?"

"Naw, I got him." Unfortunately, he had plenty of experience maneuvering a nearly comatose Dean. Sam jiggled his big brother's shoulder until Dean snorted and his eyes cracked open. "C'mon, man, you can lie down in the car."

"Wegofoo?"

"Yes, Dean, we're going to get some food," Sam said long-sufferingly, getting him to his feet and shuffling toward the door after Bobby.

"'so'my." Even as his feet kept moving, Dean's eyes closed again, his chin dipping.

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Sam agreed.

He was exhausted, too. Between the constant emotional battle against the hallucinations and the physical battle against the Leviathans, sometimes he just wanted to lie down and never get up again. But he still had Dean. What did Dean have besides one college dropout with a bunch of loose marbles and a homeless old man? And in addition to all the losses, there'd been Amy and the rift she'd opened between them, Psycho Becky's assault on Sam, and a guilt complex that was so out of control, Dean had even admitted to it. The last time Sam had seen his brother this hopeless, Dean had nearly offered himself as an angel puppet, and he'd had less to deal with then. Sam's brother was literally carrying the worries of the world on his shoulders, and that would crush anybody. And if Dean went down, they both did, and probably the stupid suicidal world with them.

Dean nearly walked into the door jamb. Sam absently course-corrected him, easily turning his pliant brother. At least whatever Dean was hopped up on made him easily suggestible, too.

Sam almost stopped, the idea hit him so suddenly.

He pivoted to face Dean, his hands holding his brother's shoulders again to keep Dean from face-planting. "Dean. Hey." He shook him a little. "Hey. Look at me."

Groggy eyes slid past his, then back.

"Hey." Sam rattled him again. "You listening to me?"

He knew Dean saw him when his mouth tugged into a goofy smile. "'ammy!"

Sam had maybe thirty seconds of awareness, tops, before Dean would be gone again.

He would make it count.

"Dean, you're a _good_ brother, you hear me?" He ducked down to catch Dean's wandering gaze. "And I'm here for you, man, I swear, me and Bobby. You're not in this alone. Just...let all that past crap go and let's build on that, okay? Stone number one?"

"Stoned one," Dean's head wobbled, "got it, Dad."

Sam groaned under his breath. "Dean. I need you to _listen. _I've got your back, man, and I know, I _know _you've got mine. You are not in this alone, but I _need_ you, okay? I need you not to give up for me."

Dean's brow furrowed a little. "Sam?" he said uncertainly, taking a little more of his own weight. "Wha's—?"

_"Everything okay in there?"_ Bobby called from outside.

"We're coming," Sam hollered back, never taking his eyes off his brother. He slid his hand up from Dean's shoulder to cup his jaw. "You hear me, dude? I'm here because of _you. _You are a _good_ brother, but you're not done yet, I need you. Okay? Can you keep fighting for me?"

"...yeah. Yeah, 'course, Sammm. 'mmy? 'am." Dean seemed more puzzled than anything, but there was a glint of sobriety in his dilated eyes.

Here Sam was again, bringing pain into Dean's world even in the rare moment when his brother was feeling none. But if any of this took, even planted one tiny seed in the darkness inside Dean, it was worth it.

Sam swallowed, nodding, and patted Dean's cheek, feeling it settle heavier into his hand as Dean faded again. "Yeah, okay. Thank you." The stubble of his brother's unshaven skin scratched the scar in Sam's palm. "You can go back to sleep now, all right?"

Dean garbled something, but he was already out, tipping once more toward Sam.

Sam let him as he moved them both out to the car. He had no intention of pushing Dean away again. For both their sakes.

**The End**


End file.
